Cold Hearts & Warm Bodies
by traetherebelchild
Summary: On a cold winter night, Stiles Stilinski is bereft of Malia's disappearance from his life after leaving him behind. Alienation from others forces Scott McCall to confront his best friend, but sex, frustration, curiosity, and pleasure comes to play. How will Stiles take this sudden intimacy with Scott?


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: My first ever Teen Wolf fan fiction! Whoop. I am so excited to share with you my love for Sciles, yet it may get a bit steamy, so be warned. Enjoy, everyone!**

**Warnings: Language and Mild Sexual Content**

In autumn, life seemed great to Stiles Stilinski. From Burger King dates, make-out sessions, lacrosse to Call of Duty with Scott almost each week. However, winter was bitter, but as cold as it was outdoors, it was extremely cold in Stiles' heart, especially after Malia Tate left him behind without a reminder or a farewell. On a December school night, Stiles remained in his room, on lockdown as if he remained in Eichen House, the asylum he escaped a year ago.

Stiles' light brown eyes gazed desperately, immediately at the door, waiting for the usual, cliché ending—Malia would return back to his arms, lie on his bed at night in comfort—that was then. Malia was gone. Chasing the girl was out of the question; he knew it wasn't a temporary departure. He lied on his bed, surrounded by photo-booth pictures of him and Malia. Clearly, there seemed to be no way for Stiles to get over her, but he knew that if he did, he would have broken the promise they made once they became official.

Ever since her adieu, Stiles literally sheltered his heart in a glass jar; he trapped it until he could see Malia once more. Soul mates, he thought to himself, yet there was obvious there was a point of no return. After two months of melancholy and obstinacy, Stilinski barely felt the urge to speak to Scott, Liam or Derek, even Lydia.

The somber music, much similar to Linkin Park, loudly diffused through the speakers from his stereo, as if he could hear Lydia's screaming, yet his mind stuck on Malia. That is until…

Knock, knock, knock. Stiles continued to neglect the sound of the door, but a voice could be heard.

"Stiles, open up!"

Scott's voice could be easily recognized, but Stiles, at first, seemed reluctant of opening the door. As bad as he missed his best friend, he missed the girl who could have been his "forever." Stiles gradually refused to leave his bed.

"Go away." Stiles pitifully replied, his tone cracked, as if he was brokenhearted, but he never really cried until the day his life was at risk—those stupid side effects, but of course he knew he wanted to save his father from shitty captivity.

He lifted up his pillow; with aggression, he covered his face in sorrow. Meanwhile, Scott shook his head, refusing to leave.

"I'm not leaving this hallway until you open up, dude." Scott said, he seemed concerned, yet he knew Stiles would open the door either way.

Stiles groaned quickly after slowly lifting the heavy pillow from his pale face. The back of his mind immediately urged him to open the door, but as soon as he did, Scott's face turned to him patiently. Scott gazed at Stiles' scruffy and bland face. There was an awkward silence between them as music continued to play.

"Dude, you look awful." Scott's worried tone intimidated Stiles a bit, but he didn't feel comfortable replying. Therefore, he rolled his eyes and looked at Scott slowly up and down. For a moment, he seemed intrigued, but his mind focused on his month-long depression. Why in the hell did he act this way? It couldn't just be over Malia, it has to be something different.

"What do you want?" Stiles asked bluntly.

Scott seemed appalled by Stiles' unusual tone, but he made himself at home while entering Stiles' unkempt bedroom. Pictures of Malia and Stiles were scattered on his bed like broken glass. His room was unpleasant, but Scott knew what was going on.

"Stiles, it has been a month since Malia left—a month," Scott sighed while picking up the pictures from his bed. "I'm pretty sure she misses you just like Liam, Lydia, and I miss her."

Stiles shrugged, "Great, as if I really need another intervention, Dr. Phil."

Scott looked at him with a larger fear of his sanity. He knew that Stiles never experienced a relationship before. All of the stories he told about his single life, the long-term, failed attempts to win Lydia's affection, and his fear of being hurt, Scott could assume Stiles will reach a breaking point—at least do anything to get Malia back, but that wouldn't happen no matter how hard he tried.

It was awkwardly silent, even after Scott slowly walked his way to the loud stereo, clicking the standby button. Stiles, motionless, questioned Scott, "What the hell?"

"Stiles, I have had it. You're my best friend, but this has got to stop. You have to stop beating yourself up over Malia and alienating your—"

Abruptly, Stiles threw his pillow across the room, almost hitting Scott. "Fuck yeah, I'm angry. You of all people should know how much Malia meant to me, like what Allison meant to you."

For a moment, Scott was taken aback when he mentioned Allison, but knowing Stiles' lingering pain, Scott was unsure of what to do.

"—I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye, Scott. She left me behind and didn't even tell me that she loved me. If I hadn't kissed her, developed feelings for her, maybe I wouldn't feel as shitty as I do right now. I've refused to eat, I can't sleep, and I haven't masturbated in 10 fucking days, I'm horny, and I want to scream—"

Stiles vented his frustration; his hands trembled as he stood up, yelling in anger. Scott tried calming him down, but the more he did, the more Stiles continued. The only way to shut him up, at least stop him from losing it, was opaque to Scott. That is, until he found himself pressing his soft lips on Stiles, whose eyes augmented in bewilderment.

Scott was pushed away for a moment, leading into more than just sudden shock. Stiles, on the outside, wanted to slap Scott for the kiss, but inside, he knew that it was hard to admit that he always found Scott attractive. A couple of wet dreams, unorthodox fantasies, and brief glimpses may be true, but Stiles never expected a kiss, as good as it felt to him.

Scott awkwardly stuttered when trying to end the tension, "I-I wanted to shut you up. What did I just do?"

It was still silent, but Stiles identified the sudden guilt outside of Scott, yet he didn't care. Stiles pushed everything aside—his depression and grievance—to lock his soft lips to Scott's. This moment was real; it wasn't those fantasies Stiles would have in History class.

Scott's heart was beating fast. He had never done this before… not because he was completely making out with a guy—well, a little bit, but he was kissing his best friend. Somewhat, he felt infidelity would take control of him once this stopped because of Kira, but the kiss felt like something new to the both of them.

"You can touch me if you want to." Scott said timidly.

Scott gazed in his eyes, and Stiles looked down at his body. Of course, Stiles stared at Scott's intimidating body almost every week before lacrosse practice. He never touched his body, at least he wanted to, and now was his chance.

Stiles pushed Scott towards him for a passionate kiss.

At that moment, Stiles had his back against his door as Scott put himself toward his warm body. Stiles slowly reached the door knob to twist the lock. Although Papa Stilinski was working a night shift, he wanted to be aware that no one could know about this.

Stiles could smell Scott's fragrance; the scent pulled him even more. Gradually, Scott's lips kissed all over Stiles' neck, who lightly moaned, and touched Scott's body, rubbing it up and down slowly as if he would make a fire. Ironically, there was fire between them, and the warmth of their bodies intimated that. Stiles pulled off Scott's shirt, exposing Scott's abs and his tattoo.

Scott took off Stiles' shirt and the two moved around the room, and Stiles stood on top of Scott, kissing him on his neck. Scott could feel himself rising up, his pants getting tighter second after second. As soon as Stiles went down to his chest, licking his nipples, Scott shamelessly moaned with pleasure.

Scott's hands grasped the sheets, but Stiles stopped. "Are you sure you want to do this? I've … never done this before."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, m-maybe we should stop?"

"No... I want to." Stiles replied immediately. He knew what he wanted, and that was Scott. In a way, he wanted his random fantasies to be real to end his curiosity, yet keep his mind away from… you know who.

Stiles, with a small iota of hesitation, unbuckled Scott's blue jeans down to his tattooed legs. He could see that Scott was already erect, while he never saw another man's dick before. He looked at Scott, who looked just as prepared as he thought he would, and he took off his Fruit of the Loom branded boxer briefs, and there stood out his Johnson, like the Statue of Liberty, it shocked Stiles in a way.

Scott bit his lips, but convinced Stiles to touch it. He didn't intend to take advantage, but Stiles didn't care. Eventually, Stiles' soft hands were carefully wrapped around Scott's thick penis, and he rubbed it back and forth.

Stiles slowly placed his lips around the pink head; the feeling amazed Scott, as he arched his back.

"Damn it. That feels so good, dude."

Stiles glimpsed at Scott and began to open the convenience flap from his pajamas. As soon as he pulled out his uncontrollable boner, he began to jerk slowly while pleasing Scott's penis.

Scott pulled himself up because it felt difficult to handle, there were signs that the wolf in him tried to escape from his mental cage. He didn't want to take things that far, not even try to hurt Stiles aggressively because of how good his lips feel around his penis.

Oh, damn, how good it felt. Stiles pulled back, hoping Scott would return the favor.

Scott looked down at Stiles' penis, and he smirked with humor. "What a grower."

Although he appreciated the compliment, Stiles was diffident—he knew that his body was a very private part of him. From what he could remember, he fearfully dodged having sex with Malia at the Eichen House. In fact, the girl he would have lost his virginity to with was killed the night of.

Playboy magazines and occasionally .com didn't help Stiles whatsoever for what was hanging between his thighs. Allowing his best friend to please him wasn't the expectation, but for once Stiles wanted to know what it felt like.

"Be gentle, Alpha." Stiles said with a sudden smirk. For a moment, he felt better, less moody than before.

Scott chuckled, "I won't bite."

"Of course, you won't. I'd kick your ass!" Stiles' eyes widened in fear, but it was clearly a joke. He didn't want his tool to be bitten or bloody by a super attractive wolf like Scott. He knew their intentions.

Scott slowly made his way down to the floor, touching Stiles' thighs, and placing his mouth on Stiles' cock. Immediately, Stiles felt a wet, ticklish rush that shivered through his body. A nerve that hit him, yet felt like paradise. He moaned sensitively, and his voice cracked a bit. Stiles slowly thrust back and forth.

A small tear fell from Stiles' eye, not because he felt uncomfortable, but he knew in any second, he and Scott would blast off like a rocket in the sky. The heat in the room fortified the sexual satisfaction between McCall and Stilinski.

"You like that?" Scott said in a teasing, but sexual manner.

"Fuck yeah."

Stiles moaned once more as he grabbed his hand around his penis, stroking it slowly upon his head. Scott kept his balance while getting up. Stiles kissed Scott, as they put their rods on top of each other, rubbing them together like sticks.

Scott couldn't resist grabbing Stiles' legs, rubbing them both gently as Stiles was almost at his end.

"I'm so close, oh, oh." Stiles said in a seriously aroused tone, sooner or later, he reached a climax. A creamy, milky surprise oozed from Stiles' cock as it landed onto the floor. While minutes later, as he followed, jerking himself off, quickly exploding with a loud groan.

Stiles bit his lip as Scott came, the sexual pleasure that night pretty much changed Stiles. An intimate session with his best friend, after a whole rant about Malia, he never expected anything so awkward but so pleasurable in his life. It was almost 11 pm, almost around the time his father would get back from the police station.

"We should, um, get cleaned up." Stiles said awkwardly. "My dad is coming soon."

Scott nodded his head, agreeing with him. It was at that point where he stood up, grabbing a tissue to clean the residue from his penis, yet he irresistibly glimpsed back at Stiles' as soon as he left to the bathroom. Once Stiles looked in the mirror, he believed something was different about him—of course, he has no problem with guys having sexual intimacies. However, considering this was his first experience, he questioned if this would be his last. Malia remains in his mind, but what he just did… what he agreed to do… may take over him.

"Shit." Stiles said.

Scott suddenly said the same in the bedroom. The fear of their friendship being affected over random pleasure scared him, not only that, but Scott hoped to go all the way with Kira. What could happen between them? Should this be kept secret? Is it really a big deal? The questions completely encircled Scott's conscience like a crime mob.

This is definitely a conflict too difficult to underestimate.


End file.
